


Duel Pinot Noir

by JinjoJess



Category: Dangan Ronpa
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Despair takes place a few years later, F/F, Gaygirigetsu 2015, NSFW, Samidare survives (obviously), awkward sex that will remind you of your first time in lurid detail, ends in tears, references another fic I haven't posted here yet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-06
Updated: 2015-12-06
Packaged: 2018-05-05 04:41:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5361773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JinjoJess/pseuds/JinjoJess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A friendly fic where nobody has to die.</p>
<p>(Well, some people die but yeah.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Duel Pinot Noir

“I'm afraid I won't be able to attend the festival this weekend,” Kirigiri said. She remained seated upright at her desk, hands folded in her lap.

Under normal circumstances, she was among the first to leave the classroom once homeroom finished, but thanks to the upcoming music festival, Ishimaru had detained the entire class so that they could divvy out solos. Someone—likely Celes, who seemed to think that relentless teasing equated to effective flirting—had suggested that Kirigiri would be a perfect choice for a solo, and all eyes had turned toward her.

Ishimaru was frozen in place beside the blackboard, his chalk still pointed in Kirigiri's direction.

“Excuse me?” he finally said, blinking. “You won't be coming?”

“No.”

“It's the school chorus event! Attendance is mandatory!”

“I received permission from the headmaster to be excused.”

“I bet you did,” Fukawa said under her breath.

“Uh, so I won't be there either.”

“Enoshima-kun, please put your hand down.”

“We all know you don't have the headmaster's permission,” Togami said.

“Not yet, but I could get it-”

Ikusaba reached over to touch her sister's arm and offer a brisk head shake. Enoshima huffed, but leaned back in her seat without continuing.

Kirigiri had initially signed up as an instructor for self-defense lessons to avoid having to deal with her father during Thursday dorm inspections. However, it seemed that the extra time she'd spent teaching alongside Ikusaba had begun to yield unexpected benefits. Kirigiri suspected that being chummy with Ikusaba was a double-edged sword—one she'd feel the blade of eventually—but for now she was thankful.

“I assume you have a good reason for not coming?” Ishimaru produced a clipboard and pen from the ether and waited.

Kirigiri said nothing.

“Could it be that you're shy, Kirigiri-san?” Celes asked, her pointed smile half-obscured by one hand. “We promise we won't judge your singing voice.”

“Yeah,” Fujisaki added, as eager as in self-defense class, “I'm sure you sound really great!”

“And even if you tank horribly, at least you won't sound as bad as Fukawa!”

“Enoshima-kun! That was uncalled for!”

“Actually,” Naegi said, “Kirigiri-san has plans with someone.”

Kirigiri sucked air in sharply through her nose and closed her eyes. Not now, Naegi-kun. Don't tell them.

“Oh don't tell me you two are going on a date?” Fukawa said. Kirigiri could hear Enoshima pretending to vomit behind her.

“No, no! It isn't me! Kirigiri-san's going on a weekend trip with a friend she hasn't seen in a long time, that's all.”

It wasn't that he didn't mean well. In a way, it was somewhat endearing that Naegi was willing to step in and elaborate on details Kirigiri didn't feel comfortable sharing herself. He probably wouldn't have volunteered anything if he hadn't gotten the sense that she was under siege by the rest of their class. Besides, his explanation so far had left out the more salient details. She supposed that it could be worse—as long as he didn't reveal anything else, the situation was salvageable.

“You couldn't reschedule?” Togami asked.

“They already did.” Naegi shrugged. “It was supposed to be a present for Kirigiri-san's birthday last month, but her friend was busy then so she asked to reschedule.”

“She?” Celes said, her grin stretching wider.

Dammit.

“Who cares? If it's not a date, what's the big deal?” Kuwata asked. He leaned back in his chair, tilting it so that it knocked into Fukawa's desk. She screeched and recoiled.

“Ya know, there are other bonds that can be as strong as romance,” Oowada said, clutching one hand into a fist.

“Not every relationship is about sex,” Maizono added, gripping the exacto knife she'd been using to cut out shapes for their class poster.

“Psh. Like I give a shit about those.”

“Well,” Naegi said, grabbing Maizono's sleeve at the elbow, “regardless, this is a very precious person to Kirigiri-san, so she thought it was too important to-”

“Naegi-kun.” Kirigiri's voice skewered his words, as cold and sharp as an icicle. Naegi's lips clamped shut and he sank in his chair, blushing. She didn't enjoy scolding him—she regretted that it had come to that—but the situation had grown dire.

Unfortunately, it was too late. Asahina had already let out a squeal she normally reserved for bakery days in the cafeteria, clinging to a smiling Oogami's bicep. Her entire body vibrated with glee, her smile so wide that it looked painful.

“What Asahina means to say is, we wish you a pleasant trip,” Oogami said.

Ishimaru drew a whistle from his pocket, mercifully ending the conversation, and resumed looking for a candidate to take on the alto solo.

*

Friday afternoon, Kirigiri met Naegi after classes and headed to the front gate. By the time they reached the fountain in the center of campus, she realized that the entire 78th class had decided to follow them.

“I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt and not assume you invited them,” Kirigiri said.

“I'm happy to hear that, because I haven't mentioned it to anybody,” Naegi said.

She studied his face—he looked nervous, but not guilty. Instead, he likely worried that she wouldn't take his word for it and blame him anyway. Kirigiri attempted a small smile to reassure Naegi that she wasn't holding him accountable, but filtered through her irritation it manifested as a grimace instead. Naegi's eyes widened in terror for a brief moment before he broke eye contact and stared straight ahead.

“Kirigiri-kun!” Ishimaru walked toward them after they reached the front gate, their classmates in tow. “Is this the rendezvous spot?”

“Why is our entire class here?”

“We are verifying your claims of having plans this weekend.”

“I already told you, I have permission from the headmaster. If you need verification, go speak to him.”

“It isn't that I distrust you, of course, but it's simply protocol. In the absence of written affirmation, we must resort to other means. Once it's established that you do indeed have plans with a mysterious friend (who I understand is very dear to you), we will be going.”

“Really. That's the reason _all_ of you are here.” Kirigiri's gaze immediately focused on the twins.

“Yep,” Enoshima said with a grin, throwing up a peace sign and pulling an arm band from her cleavage, “we've been deputized for the day.” Ikusaba punctuated the comment with a stiff salute.

Kirigiri could think of few things more disastrous than Enoshima in a position of power.

“It's true,” Celes said, showing off her own arm band. It appeared to have lace trim hot glued to the edges. “We're all just making sure you're following the school rules.”

Kirigiri scanned the crowd for Yamada—as she'd suspected, he had several band-aids wrapped around his fingers.

He was also holding a pencil and a small Croquis sketchbook.

“All of you, out,” Kirigiri said, pointing toward the main school building.

“Huh?”

“How come?”

“All of us?”

“No, Naegi-kun, you can stay. The rest of you, go. _Now._ ”

“I'm afraid I can't do that, Kirigiri-kun.”

“Ishimaru-kun...fine. Stay if you must, but I want the rest of the 78th class out of my sight.”

“Just the 78th class though, right?” Enoshima asked.

“If you even so much as think about sending one of your little 'fan club' members, you will regret it.”

Ikusaba pulled a walkie talkie from her uniform. “Marshmallow Lump, Freckles the Lesser. Stand down.”

“Hey!” Asahina said from atop Oogami's shoulders. “Is that her?”

“I think that's the groundskeeper,” Fujisaki said. “I'm pretty sure we see him every day.”

“I can't fathom why half of you are even interested in my private matters,” Kirigiri said.

It made sense that Celes, with her unrelenting crush, and Enoshima, the notorious meddler, would want to be present. Ikusaba went where her sister did, just as Yamada tagged along with Celes. Aside from Naegi, whom she'd invited herself, Ishimaru was likely the only person not there under false pretenses. However, Kirigiri barely spoke to the remaining students. What stake did they have in learning about her personal life?

“Uh, cause lesbians are hot?” Kuwata said with a shrug and a head tilt.

“I can't believe I'm saying this, but I think I agree with Kuwata-kun, at least partially,” Maizono said. “You're normally so reticent about everything, Kirigiri-san. Maybe we just want to know more about you, especially someone you have strong feelings for.”

“So you're rubbernecking, essentially.”

“I'm mostly just here t'support my bro,” Oowada said, running his fingers through the wild hair hanging down the back of his neck. “If ya aren't cool with me being here, I'm happy t'leave.”

“That would be greatly appreciated.”

“Then I'll get going.”

“As will I,” Celes said. “The last thing I'd ever want to do is make you feel uncomfortable, Kirigiri-san.”

“How uncharacteristically considerate of you.”

Celes bowed and turned to leave.

“Yamada,” Kirigiri heard her whisper, “the astronomy tower, forthwith.”

“Well I'm not going anywhere,” Togami said. “If Kirigiri doesn't have to be dragged to some pedestrian event tomorrow so that your prosaic families can listen to you choke out the lyrics to a saccharine pop song, I at least want to know why.”

“Aw, hey, Togamicchi. It won't be that bad. Maybe you'll even have fun.” Hagakure patted Togami on the back, eliciting a sputter.

“Who gave you permission to-” Togami righted his posture and clapped. “Bodyguard? Bodyguard! Do your job!”

“Y-Yes, Byakuya-sama!”

Fukawa advanced on Hagakure, who stumbled backward into a bush. The shrub let out a yelp, earning a sharp glare from Ikusaba. Kirigiri made a mental note to investigate the grounds thoroughly when she returned from the trip. That cry of pain had not matched the innocuous one she'd have expected from the Super High School Level Botanist. If someone who was not Shikiba Santa was hiding in the school's shrubbery, it required her attention. It wasn't as if she could leave it up to her father.

“I think we're about done here,” she said. “So if you could just-”

“Kirigiri-chan?”

She froze. Everyone in her life had such impeccable timing; it was surreal. All she needed now was for her father to appear with an album full of baby photos.

“Um, that's you, right?” She heard a nervous chuckle behind her. “I know it's been more than a few years, and...”

Kirigiri turned around. Samidare stood on the opposite side of the fence, her hands buried in the pockets of a short, fitted black trench coat. Though her clothing appeared more stylish and mature than Kirigiri remembered, Samidare's glasses and hairstyle hadn't changed much since the last time they'd seen one another. Neither had her legs, dark brown leggings clinging to the toned muscle there. Kirigiri swallowed hard.

Samidare's eyes quickly panned Kirigiri, her nervous smile crumbling. She bit her bottom lip.

“Oh! Uh, wow. K-Kirigiri-chan, you look...good. ...Really good.” Samidare cleared her throat. “You're a lot, um, taller now.”

“Still as eloquent as ever, I see,” Kirigiri said, praying that her thundering heart rate wasn't audible to the people around her. “It's been a while, Yui-oneesama.”

In the corner of Kirigiri's vision, she saw the twins exchange a glance, Enoshima mouthing the words _onee-sama_ in disbelief.

“Oh, are these your friends?”

“One of them is,” Kirigiri said. “This is Naegi Makoto. He's the one I mentioned in my letters.”

“Nice to meet you, Samidare-san,” Naegi said, bowing. “I've heard a lot about you.”

“Likewise.” Samidare returned the bow. “I'm glad Kirigiri-chan's managed to make friends in high school. She can be such a loner.”

“Indeed,” added Celes, smiling broadly when Kirigiri glared in her direction.

“I hear you're a pretty accomplished detective,” Naegi said. “From the way Kirigiri-san talks about you, I think she respects you a lot.”

“Naegi-kun!” Kirigiri hissed, but Samidare just laughed.

“I don't know why. I'm mid-tier as far as detectives go. Nothing like Kirigiri-chan.” Samidare winked in the crowd's general direction; Maizono and Fujisaki both raised a hand to their mouths. “She's on a totally different level. She's saved me on so many occasions. Did she ever tell you about the time-”

“ _Thank you,_ Onee-sama,” Kirigiri said through clenched teeth. “Perhaps we can relive old memories for Naegi-kun's sake another time. Preferably in private.”

“A threesome? You lucky dog!” Kuwata punched Naegi in the arm, causing him to wince.

“I don't think that's what she means...” he said, rubbing the spot where a bruise was likely forming.

“Oh wow,” Asahina said, having dismounted from Oogami's shoulders. She leaned against the gate, sniffing Samidare. “You weren't what I pictured at all.”

“I wasn't?” Samidare asked with a bemused smile.

“Nope. When I heard that Kirigiri-chan had a special person in her life, I thought it would be someone...different.” Asahina squinted, then smiled. “You look really athletic! Who knew that was her type?”

“Yes,” Oogami said, approaching the gate. “It is rather surprising, though I cannot say I fault her.” She extended her hand through the bars. Samidare blanched, but then gingerly took the hand to shake it. “Oogami Sakura. This is Asahina Aoi. If you ever require a sparring or training partner, please seek us out.”

“Sure. I'll keep that in mind.” Samidare stuffed her hands back into her coat pockets. “So, Kirigiri-chan, you ready to go?”

“Yes. I was ready to go twenty minutes ago.” Kirigiri hauled her duffel bag onto her shoulder and and stepped through the gate.

“That looks heavy. I'll take it.”

“Onee-sama, no.”

“Oh stop, let me spoil you a bit.” Samidare seized the bag strap and slung it over her shoulder to a chorus of pleased gasps. “Just like old times.”

“What about your luggage?” Kirigiri asked, trying to ignore the fifteen pairs of eyes on her back.

“It's in a coin locker at the station. C'mon, let's get going.” Samidare grinned, linking arms with Kirigiri and leading her away from the school. Behind them, Kirigiri could hear Maizono, Fujisaki, and Asahina release a high-pitched squeal, while Fukawa grunted and Celes giggled lightly.

“So, what do you think,” Samidare asked once they were a block from Kibougamine's campus, “do your friends think I'm cool?”

“I hope you are prepared to make room for me in your home,” Kirigiri said. “Because I am never returning to that academy.”

“Aw, come on. No need to be melodramatic.” Samidare pulled Kirigiri closer. “I promise I'll make it up to you this weekend, okay?”

Kirigiri felt the hair prickle on the back of her neck; excitement buzzed in her gut. “See that you do.”

They reached the train station several minutes later, where Samidare had indeed left her own travel bag in a coin locker. To Kirigiri's dismay, she refused to return her luggage, instead carrying both duffel bags down to the train platform.

“It's nice your school is so close to the subway,” Samidare said.

“You say that like your high school wasn't.”

“True, but my high school wasn't Kibougamine.”

“Correct me if I'm wrong, Onee-sama, but I believe you could have attended Kibougamine and you chose not to.”

“Guilty as charged,” Samidare held up her left hand in surrender, leaving her right arm wrapped around Kirigiri's. “It's good that I made that decision though, isn't it? Otherwise we never would have met.”

“And your life would have been much calmer, I imagine.”

“That, or I would've ended up a bloodstain on the heel of the Committee.”

Kirigiri felt a shudder course through her. Frowning, Samidare squeezed her arm.

“Hey. Sorry. I shouldn't have brought that up.”

“No, no. Don't worry. It wasn't an entirely untrue statement, to be fair.”

“Hey!”

The Marunouchi Line screeched into the station. Samidare released Kirigiri to pick up both the bags, carrying them onto the train. The car was full, so they stood by the door, allowing the conversation to lull rather than try to talk over the shrieking of the subway.

“Two tickets to Katsunuma-Budoukyou, please,” Samidare told the ticket window attendant when they reached Shinjuku. She pushed Kirigiri's offered credit card aside.

“These tickets are expensive.”

“Hush, I'm treating you.”

“Onee-sama.”

“It's for your birthday, now behave.”

Kirigiri chewed the inside of her cheek, slipping the credit card back into her wallet. It was a pointless waste of money to have Samidare pay for both of their tickets, especially since Kirigiri—as was the case for all Kibougamine students—received room and board for free. Samidare was living in a tiny, one-bedroom apartment north of Ueno, supporting herself and the small detective agency she'd founded via the few cases that trickled in.

“Take whichever seat you want,” Samidare said once they'd boarded the express. She tossed their bags into the luggage compartment above them, then stepped aside. Kirigiri chose the window seat, Samidare sitting beside her.

“This train will take over an hour,” she said, smiling at Kirigiri, “so if you want, you can rest your head on my shoulder.”

“Do you really think you're going to stay awake the whole time?”

“I'll have you know that I am accustomed to late nights.”

“Is that why back when we used to solve cases together I'd always wake up to find that you'd dozed off?”

“That's unfair. I was under a lot of stress at that time.” Samidare stuck her lip out in an exaggerated pout. “Besides, it was always you who fell asleep first.”

“I was young and inexperienced then,” Kirigiri said, turning to look out the window.

“Ah, yes. Unlike now, when you're so worldly.” Samidare laughed. “You've been eighteen for what, a month now?”

“For almost six weeks.”

“Oh, well. Excuse me, Kirigiri-sama.”

With a sigh, Samidare leaned back into the plush seat. She closed her eyes, a contended smile on her face.

“Look, you're already falling asleep. Where will my poor head rest?”

“I'm really glad you agreed to this trip, Kirigiri-chan,” Samidare said, leaving her eyes closed.

“Where did that come from all of a sudden?”

“I've just missed you, that's all. Letters, email, texting...it's not the same.”

Kirigiri reclined in her own seat. Samidare was right. Though they'd been sure to keep in regular contact over the past few years, something had been missing. At first Kirigiri had suspected that the mediocrity of daily life was to blame—of course discussing coursework and cases about teenage runaways couldn't compare to matching wits with world-famous detectives and betting their lives in murder games.

Recently, however, Kirigiri had found that what she truly missed about Samidare's presence in her life was just that: her presence. Many of her fondest memories from that chaotic period of her life had been the small, quiet moments, where she and Samidare had found a chance to breathe.

Kirigiri looked out the window. The sun was already setting; shadows, cold and dark, seeped up from the city's narrow streets. Neon signs had begun to switch on, advertising alcohol, food, or entertainment. It would be nice to escape the city for a few days, to relax and distance herself from her daily stresses.

She turned her head to look at Samidare. Despite her insistence, it appeared that she'd already fallen asleep. Her breathing was deep and regular, her chest rising and falling gently beneath her coat. Kirigiri readjusted herself in the seat and rested her head on Samidare's shoulder.

Yes, it would be nice to get away, especially with such excellent company.

*

The hotel was only a thirteen minute walk from the train station, according to Samidare's map. Kirigiri yawned and crooked an arm, but Samidare didn't thread hers through it.

“It's chilly out here,” Samidare said, white puffs of breath curling from her lips.

“We are in the mountains.”

“No one got off here but us.”

“Most people likely got an earlier start,” Kirigiri said, dropping her arm and turning away to hide her dissatisfied expression. “I apologize, that was my fault.”

“Nah, it's fine. Your classes are important.” Samidare hoisted both duffel bags onto her left shoulder and grinned. “Besides, since it's just us, I can do this.” Her right arm snaked around Kirigiri's shoulders, pulling her into her side. Kirigiri couldn't hold back her surprised gasp.

“Yui-oneesama, there are still security cameras in the station.”

“Oh, worried about being caught on film, Kirigiri-chan?”

“You made it sound like you would have hesitated had we not been alone.”

“And I might've, though only for your sake.”

“How generous of you.”

Samidare laughed, the vibrations bleeding into Kirigiri's side. They walked down the steps and awkwardly navigated through the turnstiles, pausing outside to check the map. They didn't speak as they followed the partially illuminated path up the hillside, passing silent, dark vineyards and small farmhouses.

Kirigiri tried to relax her muscles, but this close she could smell Samidare's perfume. It was a subtle rose scent mixed with something spicier—perhaps a kind of berry—that made her neck and shoulders lock up. Kirigiri hadn't seen Samidare in person since she'd started at Kibougamine. Though they'd written one another often, she had to admit that over the years, the actual Samidare had gradually eroded into a memory, an idea, a paper-doll replica with smooth, round edges. It was easy to fantasize about reuniting with that version of her, the one who never did or said anything Kirigiri couldn't predict.

In spite of her father and Naegi's best efforts, Kirigiri's last few birthdays had passed quietly and without fanfare. If it weren't for her classmates wishing her well and the annual card from Samidare, she likely would not have even remembered her birthday until after the day had passed. This year, however, she had circled the weekend closest to October sixth on her calendar in red pen. She had read and re-read Samidare's text message in the proceeding weeks: _Eighteen is a big year, Kirigiri-chan! Why don't we celebrate properly with a weekend trip? I hear Yamanashi is nice this time of year. It'll be my treat._

Was eighteen a big year? It was true that she would graduate from high school at eighteen, but this trip was not offered as a graduation present. She was still two years away from being able to drink, or smoke, or vote. Kirigiri could only think of two things that suddenly became legal for her to do upon turning eighteen, and she doubted Samidare wanted to take her on this trip to give her driving lessons.

If she was honest with herself, she'd been relieved when Samidare had pushed the trip back. It bought more time, gave Kirigiri a longer window in which she could imagine how well their reunion would go before having to face the reality. So far it hadn't followed the script Kirigiri had devised in her daydreams, and she felt as though she were on a ship that had veered off course. _It's happening now,_ she thought, _enjoy this moment, because once it's over all you'll have is the memory of how it felt._

Yet there were too many questions. She and Samidare had never explicitly defined their relationship; the last time they had spoken about it, Kirigiri had been thirteen, and the conversation had almost immediately gotten shuffled into their exploits with the Committee and put aside. Kirigiri wasn't even sure if Samidare remembered that night in her dorm room, the scent of cooking nabe and the warmth of their clasped hands. What if this trip really was just Samidare's way of celebrating both her birthday and her upcoming graduation in the spring? What if this entire time, she'd been misreading their banter as flirting? Did Samidare still want to be with her as a lover, or had Kirigiri been relegated to the role of Very Special Friend?

“Yui-oneesama,” Kirigiri said before she could stop herself, “what are we?”

“Detectives, last time I checked.”

“No, I mean us, our relationship. How would you define it?”

“Close,” Samidare said, her eyes still scanning the darkened roadside. Her arm tightened around Kirigiri.

“Yes. But what am I to you?”

“Special.”

“Do you consider me your girlfriend?” The words froze as they hit the air, lingering in front of Kirigiri's face just long enough for her to regret them.

Samidare's arm relaxed, and she kept her face pointed toward the opposite side of the street.

“Let's talk about that once we're inside, okay?”

Kirigiri preferred to know now, but she supposed that it would be easier to discuss such a loaded topic in the comfort of a warm room.

They found the hotel tucked in between two vineyards, one sloping uphill and the other down. It was a small, Japanese-style inn, and an old woman was waiting when they stepped into the entryway.

“Good evening,” she said as they removed their shoes and tucked them into a wooden locker. Despite her back being bent at a ninety-degree angle, she still managed a deep bow. “Welcome.”

They returned the greeting and the bow, Samidare pulling a sheet of printer paper from her jacket with the reservation details. The old woman nodded and waved them inside.

“I'm afraid you missed dinner,” she said as they passed an empty dining room, “but if you'd like something to eat, there's a convenience store about five more minutes up the road.”

“What do you say, Kirigiri-chan? Should I run and pick up some snacks for us?”

“I don't think that will be necessary.”

“Aw, come on. I don't mind.”

“I'd rather get to the room,” Kirigiri said. The faster they reached the room, the sooner they could resume their conversation, and she could clear away the uncertainty like dust on a bookshelf.

“Here we are,” the old woman said. They'd stopped in front of a sliding screen door, a keyhole in the center frame where the two pieces met. The old woman pushed the key in and turned, opening one side of the doors to reveal a medium-sized Japanese-style room. The scent of tatami tickled Kirigiri's nose, reminding her of her grandfather's home.

The old woman handed Samidare the key and shuffled back down the hallway with another bow. As she left, Samidare placed the bags just inside the room and pressed the key into Kirigiri's palm.

“You get settled. I'll be right back.”

“Where are you going?”

“To the conbini up the street.”

“I said I didn't need anything.”

“I know what you said, but come on. We're on a trip! We've got to have at least a bag of chips and some cookies, right? I'll pick up some drinks too. What do you want, some Mitsuya Cider? C.C. Lemon?”

“Onee-sama, please.”

“All right then, I'll surprise you.” Samidare smiled and flashed a peace sign. “Be back in fifteen. Don't lock me out of the room, okay?”

Before Kirigiri could argue, she jogged down the hallway and disappeared around the corner. Kirigiri snorted in irritation, but didn't follow. Instead, she stepped into the room and shut the door behind her. The small tea table had already been pushed aside to make room for the two futon that were unfurled on the floor. There was about twenty centimeters of floorspace between them.

Kirigiri grabbed the edge of one of the futon and tugged it to close the gap. She stopped just as the edges were about to touch—this was probably premature. Standing up straight, Kirigiri removed her jacket and hung it in the closet beside a few well-worn indoor yukata. She undid the knot in her tie, wondering if she should keep her clothes on or not. About an hour before Naegi had knocked on the door to her room, Kirigiri had tried on and discarded six different bra and panty sets, trying to find the most flattering pairs to pack.

What would Samidare do if she returned to find Kirigiri clad in nothing but a black bra and matching side tie panties? The way the scenario had played out in Kirigiri's mind was probably not the most accurate indicator of what would happen in reality.

She unzipped her shirt and carefully folded it, placing it inside a plastic bag she'd brought along to hold dirty laundry. Her skirt soon followed, along with her socks. Kirigiri knelt on the floor for a few moments in her underwear; the air felt cold against her bare skin, leaving goosebumps where it brushed against her.

Her eyes flicked to the closet. She stood up and removed one of the women's yukata from its hanger, draping it around herself. _This is a good compromise,_ she thought, tying off the obi.

Still chilly, she peeled back the comforter of one of the futon. She sat down with her back to the wall and pulled the comforter to her chin. She fished her phone out of her duffel bag and flipped it open to check her messages. Though her classmates—mostly Enoshima—teased her for carrying such an outdated model, Kirigiri had no need for a phone that was also a small computer. Besides, touch screens were a source of frustration for her.

[Have a great trip, Kirigiri-san!]

The edges of her lips twitched into a smile and she pressed the reply button.

[Thank you, Naegi-kun.]

The response came almost instantaneously.

[Hey! Didn't think I'd hear back from you so soon. Did you get there already?]

[Yes, we just arrived a short time ago.]

[So, how are things going?]

Kirigiri looked up from the phone and panned her gaze throughout the empty room. How were things going? It was too early to tell. When she looked down, she saw that Naegi had sent another message.

[I mean, you don't have to tell me details or anything! I just wanted to check in.]

Kirigiri considered writing back with complete honesty. _Things are strange. I've missed Yui-oneesama's companionship so keenly over the years, but being with her again feels unfamiliar. It's as if I thought I remembered her face perfectly, but found that I've forgotten the color of her eyes and the shape of her nose. She's being especially cagey regarding the specifics of our relationship, and I am in turmoil over the fact that I have no idea whether or not we are going to have sex tonight. I can't even discern if I want to have sex tonight or not. Both possibilities are equally terrifying._

[It's going well.] she typed into the phone only to erase the message and replace it with [I don't know.]

[I hope it gets better. Don't worry, I'm sure it will!]

Kirigiri snapped the phone shut and placed it on the floor beside her futon just as the door opened.

“Sorry for the wait!”

Samidare slid the door shut behind her, turning the tab to lock it. Four plastic bags hung from her arms, filled with colorful packages and bottles.

After hanging up her coat, Samidare dropped into a cross-legged position on the open futon, arranging the bags between them. She pulled out several flavors of chips, a few small boxes of cookies, and three liter-sized soft drinks. Kirigiri noticed a lone, empty can of Asahi Super Dry beer lying on its side in the bottom of one of the bags.

“I couldn't quite remember what kind of snacks you liked, so I got a bunch of different kinds. I'm pretty much good for anything, personally. When I think of you I get more of a wagashi sort of vibe, but unfortunately you can't find a lot in the way of Japanese sweets at 7Eleven so-”

“Onee-sama.”

“Yes?”

“I would like to resume our earlier conversation.”

“Oh.”

Kirigiri drew a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment to steady herself. She had to know. What if she was rejected, right here? What would she do for the rest of the weekend? It didn't matter. She had to know.

She opened her eyes. “Yui-oneesama. Do you consider me to be your girlfriend?”

“Do...do you want to be my girlfriend?”

“Answer my question before posing your own, please.”

“I...” Samidare's gaze dropped to stare at the honey mustard flavored Pringles in her lap. “I don't know.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, the last time we talked about this was a really, really long time ago.” Samidare toyed with the edge of the packaging.

“So you do remember.”

“Of course I remember.” Samidare looked up for a moment, indignant hurt in her eyes.

“Do you still feel the same way about me?”

“I do.” Samidare closed her eyes and swallowed. “If anything, seeing you again has made the feelings stronger.”

“I see.”

“The real question here is how you feel about me. I know you said you'd wait, but...I saw all of your classmates, Kirigiri-chan. There's a lot of really cute girls in your class. There's an honest-to-god idol, that goth loli, the perky sporty one, the well-endowed blonde...” Kirigiri winced. “...the really hot one with the freckles that I guess was her sister? The little mousey one, the super buff one (I don't know what you're into these days)... That's a lot of stiff competition.”

Samidare bit her lip for a moment before continuing.

“And then there's your friend, Naegi. He seems like such a nice kid. I never really got the sense that you were interested in boys, but I guess I could've been wrong. You talk about him a lot in your letters.”

“Naegi-kun is a dear friend, nothing more,” Kirigiri said. “And for the record, you are correct in surmising that it is not possible for me to have less interest in boys than I do right now.”

“Right. Still, there's a lot of attractive girls around you all the time. Girls your own age, who you see every day, who will be way more successful than I ever will...”

“Yui-oneesama.” Kirigiri leaned forward, placing a gloved hand over Samidare's. “There is no competition. You are my type.”

“A-Are you sure? I mean, you seemed pretty flirty with the goth loli.”

“Please do not indulge her, even in her absence.” Kirigiri grimaced. “And don't you dare say a word about the twins.”

“Okay.” Samidare put her free hand on top of Kirigiri's. “Kirigiri-chan, would you like to make it official? Will you be my girlfriend?”

“I've been operating under the assumption I already was, so I suppose I can manage that, yes.”

Samidare laughed, taking Kirigiri's hand in both of her own and lifting to her lips. She kissed the leather over her knuckles twice and pressed her face into the back of the glove.

“I'm really happy,” she said, her voice choked with impending tears.

“Onee-sama, you're going to get indentations from the studs in your forehead.”

“Dammit, Kirigiri-chan, could you please just let us have this moment?”

“I'm injecting a sense of levity into these proceedings.”

“You're avoiding getting emotional, is what you're doing.”

Kirigiri curled her free hand into a fist. She'd forgotten how perceptive Samidare could be. It must have been one of the details that got shaved off as the years polished her memory.

“I'm very happy that we got that into the open,” Kirigiri said. “But there's one point remaining that needs to be settled.”

“What's that?”

“Were you planning on us having sex tonight?”

“Kirigiri-chan, you really don't waste any time, do you?”

“Well?”

Samidare released her hand and exhaled. “I don't know, to be honest. When I imagined us going on this trip, my mind always just started from Saturday morning. I guess I kind of forgot that this would be an issue the first night.”

“That is quite an oversight on your part.”

“Yes, yes it is.” Samidare rolled her eyes. “I suppose you're eager to unravel the mysterious of lovemaking, huh?”

“Not when you phrase it like that.”

“In all seriousness, do you think you're ready? Would you want to tonight?”

The text she'd sent to Naegi earlier flickered into Kirigiri's mind.

“I don't know,” she said.

“In that case, I say we wait.” Samidare smiled, popping the cap off the tube of Pringles. “We've made it this far, what's another day?”

_Right,_ Kirigiri thought,  reaching for the small package of doughnuts, _what's another day?_

*

Samidare went to put on pajamas in the bathroom, allowing Kirigiri to get changed in the room. Though she wouldn't normally, Kirigiri decided to leave her bra on under the pajama top. If they changed their minds on a whim, she'd be ready. She finished buttoning as Samidare called from the bathroom.

“Is it the coast clear? Can I come out?”

“I think we're already past that stage, Onee-sama.”

“I'm going to assume that if you have time to be mouthy that you're finished changing.”

“That's a bold assumption. What if I decided not to change at all, and I'm sitting here wearing nothing?”

“Then I will close my eyes and recite my vow of chastity.”

“Also it's a little insulting that you think I can't trade barbs with you while performing another, simultaneous action.”

“Good point. I mean they must be teaching you Super High School Levels something at that academy.”

“I'll have you know that I graduated with top marks from my multitasking class. Were he with us today, I could likely give Ryuuzouji-san a run for his money.”

“I'm sure you could. Anyway, are you decent or not?”

“Come see for yourself.”

The door opened and Samidare walked out wearing a pair of plaid flannel pants and a faded t-shirt.

“I see you really didn't take tonight into account when planning this romantic get away.”

“Excuse me, Miss Matching Button Down and Pants. I didn't realize that we were going to be modeling for a department store ad.”

“These are made of 100% silk, and the pattern is a simple pinstripe. I would like to think that on a scale from stained rags to transparent lingerie, my pajama set ranks above a tattered 'High Jump Championship 06' t-shirt in terms of sexiness.”

“Good thing we agreed that we weren't going to have sex then,” Samidare said, dropping her day clothes into her bag. “Kirigiri-chan, grab the edge of your futon.”

“Why?”

“We're pushing them together.”

“I thought we agreed nothing untoward was going to happen tonight.”

“Relax, your virtue is safe with me. But we came all the way out here and it's cold tonight and...”

“I'm sorry, I didn't catch that last part.”

“...I'd like to hold you.”

“O-Oh.” Kirigiri felt a burning warmth climb the back of her neck. “I suppose that would be fine. It's nothing we haven't done before.”

“Exactly. We've shared a bed plenty of times. Perfectly...okay well maybe not exactly in a platonic way, but not in a sexual one either.”

They pulled their futon together, tucking Samidare's underneath Kirigiri's along the edge. It reminded Kirigiri of tectonic subduction—she wondered if she should brace herself for a coming earthquake. She crawled under her blanket as Samidare layered hers over top of it.

“We're going to be close, so I figure we can double up.”

“Good idea.”

Samidare joined Kirigiri under the blankets, throwing one arm over her side. She paused, then slid it down to rest in the groove of Kirigiri's waist.

“Lift your head up a sec.”

Kirigiri did so, and Samidare placed her other arm beneath her neck. It was surprisingly comfortable.

“Is that okay?”

“Yes.”

“Great.” Samidare snuggled closer, pressing herself against Kirigiri. She rested her chin on the top of Kirigiri's head, curling her arms to hold the smaller girl in place.

“Onee-sama.”

“Hmm?”

“This is nice.”

“Yeah, I've missed this too.” Samidare kissed Kirigiri's forehead. “It's so warm.”

“You know, it would be warmer if we took off our clothes.”

“ _Goodnight,_ Kirigiri-chan.”

*

Kirigiri woke up alone. She sat up, checking her pajama top to see if it was still completely buttoned—it was. She rolled one of the buttons between her thumb and forefinger, trying to decide if she was relieved or disappointed.

The sun was already up, peeking through the curtains to her left. Kirigiri stood and moved toward them, pulling them apart. Behind them was a sliding glass door that looked out over the surrounding mountains. Kirigiri could see vineyards cascading down the slope; they briefly stopped at the highway, then continued down toward a city clustered in the pit of the valley. Beyond it, mountain peaks zigzagged against a clear blue sky. It was mid-November now, and most of the trees in her view had changed from green to a more festive shade of yellow, red, or orange.

She heard the room door rattle open behind her.

“Oh, you're up! Good morning!”

Kirigiri didn't turn around, still staring out at the view. “Good morning, Onee-sama.”

“As I thought, breakfast gets served pretty early here. I just caught the tail end of it.”

“Is that so?”

“Don't worry, I brought you something.” Samidare walked up beside Kirigiri, a bowl of rice and a packet of seaweed and dried fish flakes in her hand. “It's just furikakegohan, but I figure we can get something else once we head out.”

“Why didn't you wake me up this morning?”

“I tried to. You smacked me in the face and told me to leave you alone.”

“I did?” Kirigiri turned to look at Samidare.

“Yep. You got me right here.” Samidare tapped the right edge of her chin and laughed. “I forgot how bad you are in the morning.”

“Forgive me,” Kirigiri said. “Allow me to fix that for you.” She leaned up and pressed her lips lightly against Samidare's face, where her blow had supposedly landed. Samidare expelled a distressed squeak, and when Kirigiri pulled away, her face was burning red.

Kirigiri smiled directly at her. “You picked a hotel with a very nice view.”

“Y-Yeah. That was one of the reasons I wanted to bring you here.” Samidare abruptly turned to look out the window. Though her face was still flushed, she reached over and took Kirigiri's hand in her own. “I'm glad you like it.”

“So what's the plan for today?”

“I thought we could go grape hunting,” Samidare said. “Maybe check out one of the lakes in the area. There's also a museum that's got music boxes from around the world too, if that sounds like something you'd like to see.”

“As long as I'm with you, Onee-sama, I'm sure I'll enjoy it.”

“You're awfully docile today. Has something happened?”

“I don't know. Maybe.” Kirigiri's eyes focused on a curling tendril of smoke rising from one of the mountains. “Getting out of Tokyo was probably good for me.”

“That's good to hear,” Samidare said. She let go of Kirigiri's hand and wrapped her arm around her waist instead. “I want this weekend to be as close to perfect as possible.”

“Trying to make sure I don't later regret my first time?”

“Kirigiri-chan, you really do have a one track mind.”

“It troubles me that you aren't more eager, Yui-oneesama. Am I meant to infer that you don't find me as irresistibly attractive as I find you?”

The bowl hit the floor with a hollow thunk. Samidare seized Kirigiri's shoulders with both hands, holding her in place in front of her. Without even a pause, she leaned down and kissed Kirigiri on the lips. Kirigiri's eyes slipped shut automatically, her hands raising to clutch Samidare's sleeves. One kiss became two, then three, then she felt Samidare's tongue brush against her teeth.

They broke apart, lightly panting. Samidare coughed and Kirigiri licked her lips, tasting the waxy remnants of Samidare's chapstick.

“You dropped my breakfast,” Kirigiri said, gesturing toward the spilled rice.

“I'll buy you something in town,” Samidare said.

*

After cleaning up the rice and allowing Kirigiri some privacy to get changed, they left the inn and walked toward the bus stop on the main road. Once they'd stopped at a small bakery to get Kirigiri breakfast, Samidare suggested going to the music box museum first, since it was the furthest distance away.

“There's a lake nearby too, where we can get some lunch. We can pick grapes on the way back, I figure. My secretary says that late afternoon or evening is the best time to go.”

“Why is that?” Kirigiri asked, wiping cinnamon bun frosting from her gloves with a small paper napkin.

“The mountain is really pretty at that time of day, according to her.” Samidare adjusted her scarf. “Very romantic, supposedly.”

“How awkward would this have been had I refused to be your girlfriend?”

“Probably as awkward as if I'd said 'no' when you asked me if I thought of you that way.” Samidare stuck out her tongue. “Not like it matters, so let's just have fun.”

The bus was too crowded to sit down, so Kirigiri and Samidare stood in the aisle.

“Can you reach the handle?” Samidare asked.

“I may be shorter than you, but I am hardly small. I don't need your Amazonian height to reach.”

“Sorry, what was that? I couldn't hear you all the way down there.”

Kirigiri admittedly didn't ride buses very often. She normally got around via train or taxi, or if she were feeling generous, her father's car. The thought of suggesting a taxi had crossed her mind, but if she had, Samidare would have insisted on paying for it just like she had the bus, and Kirigiri was beginning to worry about her finances. Samidare's agency couldn't be doing well enough to afford all of this.

Kirigiri couldn't remember the last time she'd ridden a bus. Though it seemed as though it should be similar to riding a train, bumps jostled her more often, causing her to lose her balance and stumble into either Samidare or the elderly man behind her. Every time she lurched forward, Samidare would smile slightly. After about the fifth or sixth time, she placed a hand gently on Kirigiri's hip to hold her in place.

“Onee-sama, we're in public.”

“What are you talking about? I'm just keeping you steady.”

“In this extremely platonic way, clearly.”

“I don't know what you mean, Kirigiri-chan. We're just two heterosexual women who happen to be friends, on a weekend trip together.”

Kirigiri heard the old man behind her cough. She could see two middle aged women sitting in the seats beside them cock an eyebrow and look quizzically at Samidare. Kirigiri stared directly at Samidare's lips, and unconsciously licked her own. What would happen if she leaned up and kissed her right here? What if she unzipped her shirt and pulled Samidare's face to her collarbone? Heat started to pool at the base of her neck.

“How long until we arrive?” Kirigiri asked.

“About ten more minutes.”

True to her word, the bus stopped in front of Kawaguchiko Music Forest nine and half minutes later. Kirigiri burst from the bus like a sea sick sailor from a boat that had just moored. Samidare followed moments later, patting her on the back.

“If you were really that uncomfortable, you could've just told me.”

“Uncomfortable isn't the right word,” Kirigiri said, shaking the thought of Samidare's teeth at her neck from her mind. “Anyway, I'm fine.”

“I'm glad, because we're here.”

Kawaguchiko Music Forest, as Samidare had said, housed a large collection of music boxes from all over Europe. As a child, Kirigiri had disliked music boxes, because the tinny melodies had plucked her soul in an unsettling way. They reminded her of koto and shamisen, instruments she should have grown up with, yet were as foreign to her at the time as to her Western classmates. When she'd gotten older, Kirigiri had grown to enjoy the haunting tones of both Japanese instruments and music boxes.

“Let's check this room out,” Samidare said, taking Kirigiri's wrist and pulling her toward a large, open area that looked like a cafeteria. They sat down at a small round table and faced a heavy red curtain. A chime sounded and the curtain was pulled open from either side, revealing a massive music box built into the wall, complete with doll-sized automatons moving to the tempo. It reminded Kirigiri of how every morning the housekeeper at her grandfather's home outside Paris had hummed when she served juice and warm, buttered croissants.

“Ma petite poupée,” she'd told Kirigiri, combing her fingers through her hair, “someday someone will take you off your shelf and play with you, and you will ask them to take you home.”

Kirigiri looked to her left, across the table. Samidare was watching the music box intently, occasionally glancing down at the guide booklet and nodding to herself.

Outside the large room was the entrance to a garden, modeled after European style. Samidare wound her arm around Kirigiri's and and pulled her down the stone path.

“Kirigiri-chan, you grew up in Europe, right?” Samidare asked as they stopped near the fence and looked out over the lake.

“Among other places,” Kirigiri said.

“Is this what it's like?”

Kirigiri looked around the garden. The landscaping was certainly European-inspired, though the entire area was full of Japanese tourists, posing for photos by flashing peace signs. Across the lake, Mt. Fuji stood against the bright blue sky, wispy clouds curling around its summit.

“Not really,” she said. “This feels more like Europe as viewed through a decidedly Japanese lens.”

Samidare nodded gravely. “So it's not totally authentic. I guess I expected that.”

“Don't feel badly, Yui-oneesama. I'm rather enjoying being here.” It was true—something about the bizarre mix of Japanese and European tastes felt more genuine to Kirigiri than a one-hundred percent accurate replica of the Jardin des Tuileries would have.

A bright smile split Samidare's face.

“I'm glad.”

*

The houtou noodle soup sat warm in Kirigiri's stomach on the bus ride back from the lake. In the return direction it was nearly empty, allowing her to sit down with Samidare in the back. The only other passengers were clustered around the driver, the seats surrounding the two girls entirely vacant. Samidare worked her arm around Kirigiri's torso, careful to keep it out of sight of anyone else on the bus.

“Are you having fun today?” she asked.

“Yes. I must commend your ability to plan a vacation,” Kirigiri said, adjusting her sitting position to better accommodate Samidare's arm. Warm air doused her from the vent above; if she weren't careful, she could easily fall asleep in Samidare's embrace.

“Anything to please the young lady,” Samidare said with a snort. She placed her free hand over top both of Kirigiri's, which were folded in her lap. She squeezed them gently. “How are you doing on gloves, by the way? Do you need a new pair? I could get you some as part of your birthday gift. Or for Christmas if you prefer.”

“This pair is fine, thank you.”

Samidare bit her lip. The bus passed a junior high school where a baseball game was underway; they could hear the crowd cheering, muffled by the window.

“I can't tell you how sorry I am,” Samidare said, tracing the glove seams with her index finger.

“Onee-sama, it was my hands or your life.” Kirigiri rested her head on Samidare's shoulder and laced their fingers. “I believe I made the correct decision.”

“Still, thank you.” Samidare slowly rubbed her thumb against the leather of Kirigiri's glove. “I don't know that I can ever repay you.”

Kirigiri looked out the window. The setting sun ignited the gold and red of the trees, making it look like the sloping peaks around them had been set alight. She thought of a line from that enka song her grandfather would sometimes sing at karaoke: _Even if I resent you, even if I blame you, you who turned your back on me, my dear...the mountain is burning._

“You don't need to repay me,” Kirigiri said. “Our debt is already settled.”

*

The vineyard handed them each a pair of large garden shears. Kirigiri looked at her reflection in the blades, and thought of Fukawa. What were her classmates up to now? Had the excitement of the school concert pushed the intrigue of the previous day out of their minds, or were they still whispering excitedly amongst themselves about what Kirigiri was up to at that very moment?

If she thought about it realistically, there were a few people who had definitely not been distracted. Naegi was likely debating whether or not to text, afraid he might interrupt a romantic moment. Celes had probably already scripted her own version of the weekend and passed it off to Yamada to be forever immortalized in g-pen and screentones. She had no doubt that Enoshima would be gleefully xeroxing said comic and handing it off to Ikusaba to be distributed around the school, making certain that no less than three copies found their way into her father's office. Afterward, the twins would likely return to their shared room and leave the door cracked just enough to make everyone in the dorm uncomfortable.

“Hey, earth to Kirigiri-chan!” Samidare waved a hand in front of her face. “You going to come help me eat these grapes, or what?”

“Coming,” Kirigiri said, following Samidare as she headed under the arbor.

The grapes were large and round. Kirigiri sometimes saw Yamanashi grapes in the grocery store, but she had never realized that they grew so plump on the vine. Samidare used her scissors to detach an entire bunch, taking one and popping it into her mouth. She closed her eyes as she chewed, humming in pleasure.

“Mmm, these are great.” She swallowed and winked, sticking out her tongue at Kirigiri. It was dyed a deep purple.

Kirigiri imagined that tongue tracing the inside of her thigh, leaving a long, bluish trail in its wake. She sucked in air through her nose and stood up straighter.

“I should've figured you'd be too refined to pick fruit off the vine like a farmer,” Samidare said, grinning at her with stained teeth. “Since that's the case, how about I feed you, m'lady?”

“Your infantilization is beginning to edge into insulting now.”

“Come off it, I'm not treating you like a baby. I'm treating you like the lady you are.”

“And just how do you know what kind of lady I am? You have no idea what I've been up to in the last few years.”

Samidare's arm dropped and the grape slipped from her fingers. It hit the grass and began to roll down the incline. Samidare's smile unfurled into a straight line, her eyes serious.

“You're right,” she said. “I don't know you anymore. All I know is what you've told me over the phone or in letters.”

“Yui-oneesama...” Kirigiri looked at the grape, now resting at the tip of her boot. “That isn't what I meant.”

“Maybe not, but you have a point. This whole weekend I've been treating you more or less the same as I always have, assuming you haven't changed.”

“I haven't changed, not much.”

“But our relationship has. We're officially dating now, whereas before we were in that kind of awkward limbo.”

“In my defense,” Kirigiri said, tucking the grape under the toe of her boot, “I thought we were dating in all but name since we had that conversation back in your dorm room all those years ago.”

“That's a misunderstanding, I guess.” Samidare exhaled and looked over her shoulder toward the city in the valley. “Sorry if that was an inconvenience for you. I mean, you could have fooled around with the other girls in your class and it wouldn't have been a betrayal or anything.”

Kirigiri looked up in alarm. She crushed the grape under her boot, dark juice oozing from under the sole. Just what did that mean?

“Have... Have you been 'fooling around' with anyone else?”

“What? No!” Samidare's head snapped back, a wounded, offended expression on her face.

“Then why would you say something like that?”

“Because you seem so angry that you didn't know we weren't technically dating until-”

“Do you really think that there is no other reason why that information would upset me?” Kirigiri's fist closed around the scissors. “Really? You can't imagine _any_ other explanation for why I'm hurt to learn that?”

The tension evaporated from Samidare's body; her shoulders sagged.

“I'm sorry,” she said.

“Since I was thirteen, the only person I've ever wanted was you.” That wasn't entirely true; Kirigiri had once or twice caught herself breathing more deeply to drink in the scent of Maizono's lotion, or stared just a moment too long at Ikusaba's toned arms during self-defense lessons. However, the tiny thrill that burst inside Kirigiri in those moments was purely physical. It never compared to the way her heart pounded when a letter or text arrived from Samidare.

“You're the only one I want too,” Samidare said. “It's just... It's just that you're so amazing—so talented, so smart, so _attractive_ —and you have so many other, better options. How is someone normal like me supposed to beat out a bunch of sexy high school girls with super abilities?”

“How many times do I need to tell you that you have nothing to worry about? Why won't you believe me?”

Samidare dipped her chin. “Because I guess I have some insecurities to work through.” She sighed. “Don't worry though. I'll get over it.”

“I certainly hope so.” Kirigiri tapped the handle of the scissors against her thigh. Samidare had placed her life in Kirigiri's hands enough times by now that she should know better than to doubt her. If Samidare could brave bullets and blunt force head trauma to keep her safe, the least Kirigiri could do was forgive her for having a bit of an inferiority complex. “Now I order you to come here and give me one of those grapes.”

Samidare looked up, expression unsure. Kirigiri smiled and beckoned with a single, upturned finger. When she had first moved back to Japan, it had taken her a long time to get used to the idea that the gesture was considered rude and flirtatious.

Samidare smirked. “You sassy little... I'll be right there, young mistress.”

*

It was almost completely dark by the time they returned to the hotel room, tongues and lips stained a dark violet, two bottles of local wine stuffed into Samidare's backpack. The old woman bowed to them as they passed her in the hallway.

“I haven't seen any other guests so far,” Kirigiri said. “It appears we're the only ones staying here.”

“We are.”

“Oh?” Kirigiri arched an eyebrow. “And how did you come by this information?”

“Baa-chan mentioned it last night when I got back from the 7Eleven.” Samidare pinched Kirigiri's nose playfully. “What, did you think I rented out the whole inn?”

“A good detective never casts out a possibility.”

“Is that so? No wonder you've been worried about me and money.”

They unlocked the door and stepped into the room. The futon they had rolled up and shoved against the wall had been once again laid out. Kirigiri crouched and pulled them together.

“Kirigiri-chan, come here,” Samidare said, waving her over to the glass windows. She sat on the floor and patted the tatami in front of her.

Kirigiri paused, futon comforter still in one hand. Samidare had always been physically affectionate; she could remember back at Norman's Hotel, when they'd been separated for a single night and Samidare had greeted her at her door the following morning with a sobbing hug. However, she'd had a point back at the vineyard—their relationship had changed. Even though Kirigiri had always considered their relationship to be romantic, albeit unorthodox, within the last twenty-four hours there had been a noticeable shift. It reminded her of the handful of seconds it took to realize that an earthquake had started and the ground was shaking.

No mystery was solved without confronting a little danger. She crossed the room and knelt on the floor in front of Samidare, facing the glass doors.

“You plan to sit in seiza?”

“You said yourself, I'm a proper la-”

Samidare seized Kirigiri and pulled her back into an embrace. Kirigiri bit back a gasp—Samidare's arms crisscrossed her abdomen, pressing her back into her breasts, breath steaming against the shell of Kirigiri's ear.

“I meant like this.”

Kirigiri's tense muscles relaxed and she melted into Samidare's grasp.

“Yui-oneesama,” she whispered. “You're so warm.”

“So are you.” Samidare nuzzled Kirigiri's hair and drew a deep breath. “I could stay close to you like this forever.”

“Should I go retrieve my memento then?”

“The handcuffs?”

“Mn.”

“You still have those?” Samidare laughed, her body vibrating against Kirigiri's back.

“They're in my travel bag,” Kirigiri said, trying to calm the buzzing in her gut. “I take them nearly everywhere.”

“Not to use for arrests, I hope?”

“No.” Kirigiri smiled, watching the shadows outside swallow the mountains. “To feel like you're with me. Like we're connected.”

“Kirigiri-chan.” Samidare buried her face in Kirigiri's hair and squeezed her. After a moment, her grip eased and a laugh reverberated against the back of Kirigiri's neck. “Maybe I should take them back from you so that I can properly propose. I mean a ring isn't exactly going to work in our case, so I need to get creative.”

“What's this now? We officially started dating a day ago and you already want to be engaged?”

“What can I say? You have that effect on me.”

Kirigiri rolled her eyes and shifted her sitting position. She felt Samidare twitch in response.

“Would that be something you'd be interested in?” Samidare asked once they had settled again.

“Are you trying to use me to validate your own twisted handcuff fetish?”

“No,” she said and chuckled. “I meant marriage.”

“What about it?”

“Would you want to someday?” Samidare swallowed. “With me?”

Most of their relationship so far had occurred via long distance. They lived their lives separately, connected by a tenuous chain of letters, texts, and emails. Would their affection for each other translate into close proximity? Yes, this weekend had been wonderful, but could they sustain it long term? Once again, she thought of her message to Naegi the day before: _I don't know._

“I'd have to think about it.”

“I know you've got an obligation to your family, but honestly, I wouldn't mind becoming a Kirigiri.” Samidare hugged tighter. “We could go the in-vitro route for kids. Find a donor, raise them together.”

“I said I'll think about it, okay?”

“Okay.”

Kirigiri focused on the view from the window. The city twinkled at the foot of the mountains. What was life like there, Kirigiri wondered. Did it at all resemble living in Tokyo, or was there an entirely different tinge to the daily routines of people who lived surrounded by the Japanese Alps?

“Do you want some wine?” Samidare asked, her breath stirring Kirigiri's single braid.

“Look at you, offering alcohol to someone underage.”

“Eighteen is the legal drinking age in a lot of countries.”

“Yes, places you've never been.”

“That doesn't matter. I'm twenty-one.” Samidare gently brushed her nose against Kirigiri's cheek. “What counts is that _you've_ been there, and therefore it's okay for you to drink.”

“The Samidare Yui I used to know never would have employed such flimsy rationalizations.”

“I've evolved. I'm Kirigiri Yui now.”

“I never agreed to that.”

“Not yet, but you will.” Samidare released her to stand up. Chilly air rushed against Kirigiri's back in Samidare's absence, making her shiver. “We both know you will.”

“In that case, should I be expecting a pair of diamond encrusted shackles tonight?”

“That depends on how you behave.” Samidare pulled one of the wine bottles from her backpack and took a glass from beside the room's tea maker. The Japanese tea cups they had used that morning had been removed. They were likely sitting in the kitchen sink now.

“Oh, Onee-sama.” Kirigiri placed a hand over her heart. “You know I could never defy you.”

“We're already off to a terrible start. Come get your grape juice, young lady.”

Kirigiri walked over and reached out to take the glass, but Samidare lifted it above her head, out of her reach.

“Now who's misbehaving?” Kirigiri said.

“Go on,” Samidare said, the bright glare of the overhead light reflecting off her glasses and obscuring her eyes. “Take it.”

With a huff, Kirigiri stretched upward, only to feel an arm snake around her waist and pull her flush against Samidare's body. Despite leaning against her only a few minutes ago, she gasped, Samidare's face now only centimeters from hers. The older girl grinned.

“Happy birthday, Kyouko-chan.”

Kirigiri barely had time to register the husky tenor of Samidare's voice saying her first name before she was kissed.

“W-What...”

“I said,” Samidare repeated, pausing after every word to kiss Kirigiri, “Happy, birthday, Kyouko-chan.”

“Since when am I 'Kyouko-chan'?”

“Since just now. We're girlfriends now, I think I've earned the right to use your given name.”

“Listen to you. 'Earned the right.' Did it every occur to you to ask me if you could call me that?”

“Do you have a problem with it?” Samidare asked. She leaned back slightly.

The only people in Kirigiri's life who had ever called her Kyouko had been her father and grandfather. While she didn't necessarily object to the idea of Samidare using a more intimate mode of address, she was so used to being “Kirigiri-chan” that it threw her off-balance.

“It's not that I have an issue with you using my given name,” Kirigiri said, placing a hand against Samidare's cheek, “it's just that I'd appreciate it if you asked me first.”

“Well then.” Samidare leaned back in, resting her forehead against Kirigiri's. “Would it be alright if I started calling you 'Kyouko-chan' from now on?”

Kirigiri closed her eyes and smiled. “That would be fine.”

Samidare kissed her nose, then her lips, then her jaw. Her teeth lightly closed around Kirigiri's earlobe, her breath roaring like the wind on the sea in Kirigiri's ear.

“You can start calling me 'Yui' if you want,” she said.

“We'll see,” Kirigiri said, wrapping her arms around Samidare's neck. “I may save that for special occasions.”

“Suit yourself.” Samidare released Kirigiri and handed her the glass of wine. She took the other cup by the tea maker—a mug—and poured herself a generous helping.

“A toast,” Samidare said, “to our future happiness!”

“Kanpai,” Kirigiri said, tapping her glass against the mug. “Cheers,” she added.

The wine tasted sweeter than Kirigiri had anticipated. In France and California, her grandfather had offered her sips of whatever he had been drinking, which was usually some kind of aged red. It had left a sticky, sour taste in Kirigiri's mouth afterward, and she had decided back then that wine would never become her drink of choice.

This, however, was light and sugary, with only the tiniest hint of alcohol. Kirigiri tilted her glass and drained it in three gulps.

“Woah there, slow down.” Samidare took the cup back and began refilling it from the bottle. “I don't want you getting sick.”

“I was just very enthusiastic about the subject of our toast.”

“I'll bet.”

Samidare carried her mug and the bottle to the futon, sitting with her back against the wall. She parted her knees and gestured for Kirigiri to come sit again. There was no hesitation in following this time.

Kirigiri could feel Samidare's heartbeat against her spine. For the last eighteen years, Kirigiri had spent more time around corpses than living people. Corpses were easy to read—they had no hidden agendas or surprises, and their stories were as bare and honest as a rope burn or a bullet exit wound. They stayed where you left them. Live people were in constant flux; their behavior and moods were subject to their fickle whims. Live people, even when dependable, could be erased from one's life in a moment. Live people sometimes moved corpses, making investigation that much harder.

All her life, she'd followed a strict policy of keeping live people at a distance. Even Naegi hovered about an arm's length away from her core. Yet Samidare...Samidare was someone Kirigiri held close. She was someone who could touch her misshapen, fractured soul and leave it more whole than when she'd encountered it.

“I love you, Kyouko,” Samidare said, her chin resting on Kirigiri's shoulder.

“Someone's had too much wine.”

“I'm being serious.”

“So am I,” Kirigiri said. She finished her glass and took the bottle to refill. She knew that Samidare was expecting her to reciprocate; she needed to keep her mouth busy.

“I just wanted you to know, that's all,” Samidare said. Kirigiri listened for a note of hurt in her voice, but all she could hear was the sound of her own blood coursing through her body.

The words wouldn't come, even if she tried to say them—they'd die, half-formed somewhere between her heart and her lips. In an investigation, nothing was ever completely certain until after the crime had been solved. Kirigiri tried not to make definitive statements without solid evidence, unless absolutely sure.

Did she love Samidare? Yes, probably. Yet Kirigiri had only turned eighteen a handful of weeks ago, and had little experience with relationships. Would her feelings for Samidare endure, or would they one day fade like the memory of her mother's voice? Would she live to regret telling Samidare she loved her, somewhere down the line, after some kind of betrayal? Did she love Samidare because she was the best partner for Kirigiri, or because she was the only person Kirigiri had been seriously interested in so far?

Both her father and grandfather had spent much of their adult lives as widowers. Would it be worth it to tell Samidare she loved her, to plan to get married, if it doomed her to an early death? Fate was not kind to those who married into the Kirigiri family.

Still, Kirigiri had never felt as connected to anyone else. She had wanted to be with Samidare as a partner for five long years, the desire burning fiercely even with the most meager of fuel. She couldn't say the words, but perhaps there was another way she could express how she felt.

“Yui-oneesama,” Kirigiri said, hyper-aware of the muscular thighs on either side of her, “I think I'm ready.”

“You aren't drunk, are you?”

“No.” She wasn't. She could see it; it could work. They would struggle, certainly, but they could make it work if they stayed determined. Kirigiri knew first hand how stubborn they both could be.

“I want you to know that if at any point you change your mind...”

“Noted. Thank you.”

Kirigiri leaned up over her shoulder and her lips met Samidare's. With a soft moan, the kiss deepened, Kirigiri reaching up to take a handful of Samidare's hair. Samidare hugged her tighter, one hand sliding upward to rest on Kirigiri's left breast.

“I see I really had to twist your arm,” Kirigiri said as Samidare brushed the hair away from her neck and pulled her shirt collar aside.

“Is this eager enough for you?” Samidare pressed her lips against the skin where Kirigiri's neck met her shoulder. Kirigiri hissed as she felt Samidare's teeth scrape against her flesh. Samidare's left hand trailed from Kirigiri's chest to her throat, pulling at the knot in her tie.

“You're making the knot harder to undo,” Kirigiri said, knocking the hand away and untying her tie herself.

“Sorry,” Samidare said.

“Look, I'll just...get undressed myself.”

“But I wanted to undress you...”

“You can do that next time.” Kirigiri leaned forward, removing her tie and shrugging off her jacket.

“At least let me unzip your shirt.”

“Ugh, fine.”

“Well if that's your attitude about it I guess we can stop.” Samidare crossed her arms and looked toward the bathroom door. Kirigiri twisted to look back at her.

“Act your age, please.”

“I am. I'm being the responsible older person in the relationship, recognizing that you seem to think of this as a chore.”

“You're sulking.”

“I wanted this to be romantic.”

“It is romantic.”

Samidare huffed. Kirigiri closed her eyes for a moment to steady herself.

“I suppose I may be more nervous than I'm letting on.”

“I'm nervous too, you know.”

“But this will be my first time.”

Samidare frowned, turning to look at Kirigiri. “It's mine, too.”

Kirigiri couldn't stop the “Really?” before it tumbled out. One of her hands clapped over her mouth, as if she could push the word back in before Samidare heard it.

“I'm not lying,” Samidare said, her voice soft. “I've never been unfaithful to you.”

“Forgive me, I just assumed that you had experience prior to us meeting...”

“With who?”

“I don't know, a dorm mate? I never thought about it too deeply. You had those love letters...”

“I turned one of them down, and I never bothered to find the person who wrote the other.”

“Yui-oneesama,” Kirigiri said, turning back around. “I'm sorry.”

“It's fine. I was being a big baby. It's probably better if you undress yourself this time anyway.” Samidare cleared her throat. “That is, if you still want to.”

Kirigiri leaned back, taking one of Samidare's hands and placing it on her shirt zipper.

“If you would do the honors, I would love to continue.”

Samidare's fingers trembled, but she took the zipper tab between her fingers and slowly pulled it down. Kirigiri could feel her flesh pimpling as the chilly air in the room touched her, but she tried to contain her shivers.

“Can...Can I...?” Samidare held her hand just above where the shirt parted. Kirigiri noticed that her nails were both clipped and filed. She wondered if that was just Samidare's normal manicure now, or if it had been done in preparation of this weekend.

“Be my guest,” Kirigiri said.

Samidare slipped her hand inside her shirt, her fingers frigid against the skin of Kirigiri's stomach. Kirigiri grunted and instinctively pressed backward. Samidare froze.

“Are you okay?”

“Your fingers are freezing.”

“Oh, sorry.” Samidare withdrew her hand, holding it to her face. Kirigiri could hear her breathing on it—when she touched her the second time, her fingers were much warmer. “Your stomach is so flat.”

“That's because I'm still in my prime.”

Samidare chuckled directly into Kirigiri's ear, sending a shiver through her body.

“If you're going to keep grinding against me like this, I may have to pick up the pace,” Samidare said, and traced the outside of Kirigiri's ear with her tongue.

“You're awfully good at this for someone with no experience.”

“Just because I don't have experience, it doesn't mean I didn't do research.”

“Oh?” Kirigiri said, her eyes slipping shut as Samidare lightly drug her short nails across the skin just under her bra. “And what did you learn during this research?”

“To talk to you the whole time and pay attention to what you do and don't like.”

“Onee-sama?”

“Hm?” Samidare kissed down the side of Kirigiri's neck, leaving a trail of warm saliva.

“I like what you're doing right now.”

“Glad to hear it.”

“But it would be nice,” Kirigiri said, stretching and reaching behind her with one hand to grab a handful of Samidare's sweater at the shoulder, “if you would take off my bra.”

“Your wish is my command, young mistress.” Samidare peeled back both halves of Kirigiri's shirt and her hands slid up Kirigiri's back. She fumbled with the bra hooks for a few moments. “Um.”

“Really? I thought this was something that only thwarted teenage boys. Don't you wear a bra?”

“Yes.”

“Then you should be familiar with how to remove one, no?”

“It's not that, it's just that this position is really awkward and-” Samidare grunted, pushing Kirigiri so that she was leaning forward. “New plan. Sexier plan.”

Kirigiri swallowed the comment she'd been about to make when Samidare pulled her shirt off and tossed it aside. She felt Samidare's breath on her bare shoulder, then her lips and tongue. Samidare's fingertips followed the curve of her shoulder, gently taking hold of her bra strap and slowly sliding it down. She repeated the process on the left side, following the strap with kisses, and with a click, the bra was unhooked. Samidare reached beneath it and squeezed.

“Ah,” Kirigiri said, sucking in her stomach. Even when she touched herself, she never spent much time in this area, and she hadn't realized how sensitive it was. Perhaps she'd have to start attending to it from now on.

“Ha, they fit perfectly into my palms.”

“Not all of us can be as well-endowed as you.”

“No, no, I'm not complaining. They're perfect.” Samidare's chin rested on Kirigiri's shoulder, stirring her hair in a way that tickled. She pulled Kirigiri's bra completely off and placed it on top of her discarded shirt and jacket. Her index fingers circled her nipples; Kirigiri bit her bottom lip. The sensation reminded her of the time in elementary school when her nail had accidentally slipped off a piece of chalk and dug into the blackboard.

“Onee-sama...”

“God, I just want to put my mouth on them.”

“Onee-sama, I'm extremely sensitive there...”

“Ah, sorry!” Samidare lifted both hands as if in surrender, and Kirigiri leaned forward with her own arms crossed. “Do you want to stop?”

“I-It's fine,” Kirigiri said. “Just...let's just do something else for awhile.”

“Um, okay. What would you like to do?”

Kirigiri turned around to face Samidare, placing her hands on her shoulders. She kissed her, lips parted and tongue hungry. Samidare wrapped her arms around Kirigiri's waist and pulled her closer. The texture of Samidare's sweater brushed against Kirigiri's nipples, the intensity just enough to help wind the tension in her gut without overstimulating.

She felt Samidare's leg twitch beside her, and in a moment of inspiration, she threw her own leg over it, straddling Samidare's thigh. The muscle here was much firmer than she'd originally thought.

“What are you doing?” Samidare asked.

“This.” Kirigiri pressed down on her leg and drug herself forward. She had been prepared for it to feel good, but hadn't planned on it being quite so pleasurable. An undignified groan escaped her before she could help it.

“A-Ah...” Samidare was shivering now. “I s-see.”

“That... Felt much better than I thought it would.”

“I'm g-glad.”

“Are you alright?”

“No,” Samidare said. “I can...feel you through my leggings.”

In response Kirigiri repeated the motion.

“Fuck!” Samidare jerked backwards, her head smacking into the wall. Kirigiri was about to apologize when she felt Samidare's leg rise to meet her.

“Guh!”

“Yeah, see how you like it when you aren't prepared.”

“Do it again.”

Samidare obliged. Kirigiri retaliated, and they soon fell into a rhythm.

“This feels incredibly good,” Kirigiri said, panting. “But I don't know if I can finish from this.”

“Fine, I think you're ruining my leggings anyway.”

Kirigiri dismounted and held onto Samidare's sweater.

“I'm taking this off of you.”

“No argument there.”

It required a couple of tries, but the sweater soon joined Kirigiri's pile of clothes. Kirigiri imagined them as two snakes, shedding their skin as part of some elaborate rebirth ritual.

Kirigiri examined Samidare's bra: a dark burgundy color, reminding her of the wine her grandfather used to drink. It appeared to be made of silk, trimmed in black lace. She lifted one hand, but immediately put it back down. The feeling of chalkboard beneath her nails shot through her mind.

“Skirt. Leggings. Off.”

“You don't want to-?”

“Skirt. Leggings. _Off._ ”

“You're the boss!” Samidare shifted to grab either side of her skirt at the waist and began to peel it and the leggings from her lower body. “I'm going to need you to move out of the way.”

Kirigiri scooted backwards to give Samidare room to remove what was left of her clothing, taking the opportunity to take off her own skirt. Samidare reached behind her back to unhook her bra but Kirigiri touched her arm.

“Leave it on,” she said, quickly adding, “It's cute.”

Samidare's eyebrow arched, but she just nodded and rested her hands on top of her thighs.

“It's not-, I... What I mean is that I think it has to do with me, not-”

Samidare smiled warmly and took Kirigiri's hands in hers. “It's okay. Don't worry. We don't have to do anything you don't want to do.”

“I realize it seems unfair, but-”

“It's fine, really.” Samidare leaned forward to kiss Kirigiri. “Trust me. I'm not mad.”

Kirigiri recognized this as one of those moments where she would need to decide if she was going to take what she was being told at face value. Ninety-eight percent of the time, she clung to a small shred of doubt—just in case she was wrong and her trust misplaced. With Naegi, she generally tended to believe him, if only because he was such a terrible liar.

When she'd first met Samidare, she'd doubted everything about her, from her naïve concept of justice and honor to her unexplained affection. As the years had passed, evidence had proven that Samidare had never been insincere—in this moment, what did she stand to gain from lying? The only possible motive she could have would be to spare Kirigiri's feelings, which itself was yet another reflection of how much she cared.

“Okay. If you say so, I'll believe you.”

“So, what now?”

“Is there something you would like to do?”

“Um, maybe.”

“Well then.”

“Could you...turn around again?”

Kirigiri faced away from Samidare, allowing herself to be pulled backward into a reclining position. Samidare rested her right hand lightly on Kirigiri's abdomen.

“Uh, if it's okay, I want to, ah, touch you?”

“You are touching me.”

“Kyouko-chan, do you really need to tease me right now?”

“I'm sorry, Onee-sama,” Kirigiri said, hoping the waver in her voice stayed disguised. “I'm all yours.”

“O-Okay.”

Samidare tucked the tips of her fingers into Kirigiri's panties, brushing against the edge of the hair there. Kirigiri wondered if she should have shaved. It wasn't something she normally thought about, but it was strange that this particular point had slipped her mind when she'd been planning for the trip. She felt she had taken almost every other detail into account.

With a deep breath, Samidare slid the rest of her hand into Kirigiri's panties, her fingers dragging through the hair in a way that made Kirigiri's neck prickle. Samidare's fingertip brushed her clit, causing Kirigiri to involuntarily buck her hips.

“There, huh.”

“A little higher, actually, but yes.”

Samidare followed her instructions, rubbing slowly and gently. Kirigiri had wondered fleetingly if Samidare touching her this way would be too much, like it had been earlier. Instead, she was pleasantly surprised to find that it felt, while not exactly right, better than anything they'd done so far.

“Does that feel good?” Samidare said, her voice a whisper against Kirigiri's ear.

“Yes...”

“Do you need to me change anything? Speed? Pressure?”

“Ever so slightly faster might be nice.”

It was indeed nice.

“Onee-sama.”

“Yes?”

“Keep doing this.”

“Okay.”

Kirigiri thought of the music boxes at the Kawaguchiko Music Forest. It was as if Samidare were winding her up, every so often not catching the knob in time, letting a note or two of the song play before it was fully wound to the beginning. As the spring tension increased, Kirigiri began trying to match Samidare's rhythm. Were she less focused on reaching the beginning of the song, she might have felt self-conscious of the way her limbs were trembling and jerking against her will.

“Kyouko...” Samidare breathed against her neck.

Her clockwork fully wound, Kirigiri screamed, digging her fingers into Samidare's thighs. Samidare paused in surprise, then continued.

“Stop! Stop! It's too raw!”

“Right, okay!”

Sagging against Samidare, Kirigiri felt the air in the room begin to chill her. A thin layer of sweat coated her entire body, her inner thighs aching. She attempted to move her legs, but for a good minute they didn't respond. As her breathing and pulse calmed, she noticed Samidare awkwardly holding the hand she'd just been using in front of her.

Kirigiri leaned forward and took Samidare's fingers into her mouth. They tasted tangy, with a hint of underlying sweetness. A sense of relief washed over her—at least she didn't taste badly.

“Oh my god,” Samidare whispered.

“Well-, well done,” Kirigiri said, holding Samidare's hand to her collarbone. “That was...enjoyable.”

“Sounds like you had a good time, yeah.”

“Wow. Wow.” Kirigiri closed her eyes. “Just give me a moment.”

Samidare cuddled her from behind, kissing the back of her head. “Take your time.”

They sat for a minute before Kirigiri pulled herself from Samidare's arms.

“Now it's your turn,” she said, crawling to her travel bag.

“Don't tell me you brought something...”

“No, nothing like that.” She unzipped the bag and began to rummage through it. “I just need to make sure we're protected.”

“Protected? From what?”

Kirigiri held up one of her gloved hands and wiggled her fingers.

“Oh! Oh. That never occurred to me.”

“I don't see why it would have.”

“I mean, I guess when I imagined this I just kind of assumed you'd leave the gloves on?”

“Onee-sama, these gloves are custom made and very expensive, not to mention I wear them constantly. I'm afraid ruining the leather is not an option.”

“That's a shame, I'm kind of into them.”

Kirigiri wasn't sure how she felt about that, but she put the thought aside as it dawned on her that what she'd been looking for wasn't in her bag. In fact, she remembered exactly where they were, sitting in the drawer of her dorm room desk, right where she'd hastily shoved them when Naegi had arrived to meet her.

“I cannot believe this.”

“You can't find whatever it is?”

“I left them at the dorm.”

“Do you mind if I ask you what 'they' are?”

“My findoms,” Kirigiri said, turning back around.

“Findoms...? You mean those little latex things that go over your fingers?”

“Yes.”

“Why would...” Samidare's eyes widened. “...oh.”

“Yes.”

“You put a lot of thought into this trip.”

“To be fair, I already had them on hand, pardon the expression.”

“What, you just had them lying around in case you needed them?”

“...Not exactly.”

“Then why did you already have...oh.” A bright pink flush covered Samidare's face and neck. She looked down for a moment, then shook her head and met Kirigiri's eyes again. “Couldn't we just go sans gloves and findoms?”

“No, that would be dangerous.”

“Would it?”

Kirigiri pulled her glove up part-way, revealing the rough, scarred tissue underneath.

“Do you want to risk it?”

“I guess not...”

“Ugh.” Kirigiri punched her bag, setting her jaw. This was embarrassing. What kind of person allowed their first time to grind to a screeching halt by being so unreliable? Somewhere, Enoshima was likely convulsing in a fit of laughter. Kirigiri could not abide by that.

“Hey, it's okay,” Samidare said, as Kirigiri crawled back toward her. “We can just cuddle and make out for a bit, you know?”

Kirigiri pushed Samidare back into the wall and pried her knees apart.

“Who says I need to use my hands?”

Samidare released a high-pitched whine reminiscent of a small, terrified mammal.

Kirigiri hooked her fingers into the sides of Samidare's wine-colored panties. “Lift yourself up a second, please.” When her partner complied, she slid them off and threw them behind her.

“You're awfully aggressive.”

“I'm angry now.”

“If that's the case, maybe you should calm down before you put your teeth ther-ah-AH!”

Samidare tasted rich and a touch salty. The hearty aroma flooded Kirigiri's nose and her grip tightened on Samidare's hips. She felt the other girl's thighs constrict around her, but tried to stay focused. Samidare had begun twitching, her needy whimpers muffled by the legs against Kirigiri's ears.

This wasn't the best position for breathing. Kirigiri lasted almost a minute before she had to pull back and gulp down air. She panted, sinking her teeth into Samidare's inner thigh.

“K-Kyouko,” Samidare said, her voice cracking on the final syllable of Kirigiri's name.

“You, are not, the only one, who did, research.”

“Clearly. Be careful down there, will you?”

“For your sake, or mine?”

“Yours, mostly. I don't want you suffocating.”

Kirigiri propped herself up on her elbows and rested her head on Samidare's thigh. She kissed the seam where her leg and torso met, trailing lower before delivering a single, long stroke with her tongue.

“Eeeeee!”

“How was that?” she asked.

Samidare sputtered, her face turned toward the ceiling.

“I take it that was favorably received.” Kirigiri licked again, then again. After a handful of minutes her jaw had grown sore, and she could feel multiple small black hairs wedged under her tongue, but she forced herself to keep going. Samidare had been trembling and tense for at least a minute and a half now—it wouldn't be long. ...Right?

“You...can stop...” Samidare said a short time later. “Sorry. I c-can't concentrate.”

“I refuse to let this end without both of us reaching climax.”

“I'll take care of it myself. You've got to be exhausted.”

That was certainly true. Kirigiri's jaw muscles ached even from talking, as if she'd been grinding her teeth in her sleep for an entire day.

“Yui-oneesama...”

“Seriously, it's not a problem. You can even still be involved, here.” Samidare removed her glasses and folded them, placing them on the floor beside the futon. She wound her left arm around Kirigiri and pulled her close, kissing her deeply. “Oof, is that what I taste like?”

“I like it.”

“I guess that's all that matters, huh.”

Samidare kissed Kirigiri a few more times, her right hand disappearing between her legs. Kirigiri felt her groin twinge at watching Samidare touch herself—the sensation intensified when Samidare pressed her forehead against Kirigiri's and moaned her name. Samidare buried her head in Kirigiri's neck, her shuddering pants and groans echoing through Kirigiri's body.

It only took a minute or two for Samidare to finish herself, sucking in air with a hiss and clinging tightly to Kirigiri. Gradually, her body relaxed, going all but limp in Kirigiri's arms.

“I know tonight wasn't ideal,” she said, kissing Kirigiri's jugular, “but I've wanted this for a long time.”

“I have too,” Kirigiri said.

Drained of excitement and tension, their sweaty bodies shivered in the chilly room. They wrapped themselves under the futon cover, a tangle of sore limbs and heaving chests.

“Congratulations,” Samidare said. “We're no longer virgins.”

“Promotions all around. Drinks are on me.”

Samidare chuckled and pressed her body against Kirigiri's, tucking the younger girl's head under her chin. There wasn't much room, leaving Kirigiri to breathe humid, recycled air. It smelled musky and damp, like walking into the changing room at a public bath.

Gradually, their pulses slowed to normal. Were it summer, they could have heard the buzz of cicadas and the chirping of crickets—the bugs were dead now, and the only sound they could hear outside was the hum of a hot water heater.

“Marry me, Kyouko,” Samidare said.

“Onee-sama...”

“You don't have to answer me today.” Samidare shifted and touched the tip of her nose to Kirigiri's. “Consider it a standing offer that you can accept or reject at any time.”

“You're only emotional because we just had sex.”

“Maybe, but the invitation still stands. I know it seems really sudden, but I want you to know that I'm serious about us. That I'm planning a future together. You waited for me all this time; I can do the same for you.”

“And if I decide I don't want to?”

“Then you tell me no.” Samidare paused for a moment. “I hope you don't say no, of course, but if you do, I'll understand.”

Kirigiri couldn't imagine declining the proposal, but she couldn't picture herself accepting it, either. Nothing was ever certain until the case was already closed. Would it be kinder to break Samidare's heart, or to offer her happiness that may only be temporary? She knew Samidare would accept whatever decision was ultimately made without complaint.

“You're a good partner, Yui-oneesama,” Kirigiri said. “I'm fortunate to have fallen for someone like you.”

“I think we make a pretty great team,” Samidare said, yawning.

Kirigiri closed her eyes, counting the intervals between Samidare's heartbeats. Live people were much warmer than corpses, she thought as she drifted to sleep. They had that in their favor.

*

Celes and Yamada were waiting by the front gate when they returned Sunday afternoon. Kirigiri suspected that the twins—or their minions—were lurking just out of sight. Her father had likely switched on the security feed from gate cameras.

“Welcome back, Kirigiri-san,” Celes said, a taut smile forming a U-shape on her face.

“Good afternoon, Celes-san. Yamada-kun.”

“You look rather, ah, refreshed after your weekend getaway, Kirigiri Kyouko-dono.”

Kirigiri chose not to respond. Yamada had already opened his Croquis to a fresh page and begun sketching the outlines of two figures.

“We had a great time, thanks!” Samidare threw an arm around Kirigiri's shoulders and hugged her. Celes's eyebrows lifted in response. “I wish it could've been longer, but I guess I'll have to turn Kyouko-chan back over to you.”

“Please do not worry. I'll see to it that 'Kyouko-chan' is well taken care of.”

“You are not authorized to address me that way, _Yasuhiro-san,_ ” Kirigiri said.

“My, my, it seems that being called by your given name upsets you to the point of forgetting your dear friends' names. You must be confusing me with someone else.”

“It appears that you too have fallen victim to some manner of disarray, since you just made the mistake of calling us friends.”

“You wound me deeply, Kirigiri-san,” Celes said, placing a hand over her heart.

Two figures who vaguely resembled Kirigiri and Samidare had materialized in Yamada's sketchbook. Their bust sizes appeared to have been multiplied in inverse proportion to the diameter of their waists.

“I should get home,” Samidare said, sliding Kirigiri's duffel bag from her shoulder and gently placing it on the ground. “Gotta be in the office normal time tomorrow and I'm beat.”

“I suppose you did not get much sleep this past weekend?” Celes asked. She met Kirigiri's eyes and flicked her shirt collar with her index finger.

Kirigiri's face burned and she adjusted her tie in a way that she hoped both appeared casual and covered the dark, bruised flesh on her throat. There hadn't been much time before checkout that morning, but she and Samidare had been sure not to waste a second of it. _Oh god I left a mark I'm so sorry_ bubbled up from her memory.

“We stayed pretty busy,” Samidare said with a laugh. “Maybe next time you can show me around Kibougamine, Kyouko-chan.”

“Perhaps you can spend the night in our world-renowned dormitory-”

“We aren't permitted to have visitors in our rooms past nine p.m.,” Kirigiri said, cutting Celes off. “We can always discuss our next meeting via email. I don't want to keep you if you're going to be busy tomorrow.”

“Of course. See you later then!”

Before Kirigiri could process what was happening or protest, Samidare had wrapped an arm around the small of her back and dipped her, pressing their lips together. She heard Celes emit a pleased _hmm,_ while from somewhere outside her field of vision a soft _upupupu_ reached her ears.

“Right,” Samidare said, straightening back up. Kirigiri stumbled when Samidare let her go. “Thanks for an amazing weekend, Kyouko-chan. See you again soon!”

“Ah, yes. Until next time, Onee-sama.”

Kirigiri waited until Samidare had rounded the corner before turning around and passing through the gate. Celes didn't say anything, though her grin curved like a scythe; Yamada had abandoned his original drawing and instead had immortalized the goodbye kiss, complete with impossible proportions.

“Kirigiri-san! Welcome back!” Naegi jogged from the front entrance toward her. “Sorry I'm late—my sister called and I lost track of time. Where's Samidare-san?”

“You just missed her.”

“Aw,” Naegi's shoulders sagged. He appeared to be legitimately disappointed. “I wanted to say hi.”

“Perhaps you can join us on our next outing,” Kirigiri said. She did want Samidare and Naegi to get to know each other better. It was important for her partner and her best friend to get along.

However, if Naegi were to join them on their next excursion (date? it would surely be considered a date at this point), it would severely limit the kind of activities she and Samidare could engage in.

“So, I assume the trip went well?” Naegi beamed at Kirigiri, reminding her of a terrier.

Had it really only been two days since that distressed text she'd sent him? She hadn't been sure how to answer then, but now she knew exactly what to say. “It did,” she said, returning his smile. “In fact, it went better than I had hoped.”

*

The door was made of a strong metal, possibly titanium, as thick as Asahina's torso.

“Are you ready?” Naegi asked, one hand in hers and the other holding a bloodstained button.

“Yes,” Kirigiri said.

“You're lying.”

“Since when did you get so good at reading me?”

“You're worried we won't find her.” Naegi squeezed her hand, ignoring an impatient huff from Togami.

“Couldn't you do this once we're out of this wretched excuse for an educational establishment?”

“Yeah guys, I mean the air purifier is shuttin' down, right?” Hagakure pulled his shirt up over his mouth and nose, glancing around the room as if he could see the toxic fumes leaking in.

“Give them a second,” Asahina said, earning a growl from Fukawa. “We've been through a lot, and we probably wouldn't even be here if it weren't for Kirigiri-chan, so back off a bit.”

“Thanks Asahina-san,” Naegi said. He turned back to Kirigiri. “We'll find her, don't worry.”

“That's what I'm afraid of,” Kirigiri said.

“Don't worry. I'm sure she still feels the same way about-”

“Gunned down. Enoshima told us that everyone who tried to rescue us was gunned down on the front steps of the school.”

“Kirigiri-san...”

Kirigiri pulled her hand from Naegi's. “Open the door,” she said.

“Only if you're ready.”

“I'm ready,” Kirigiri said. “Press the button, Naegi-kun.”

His lips pursed as if to say something else, but instead he turned to the others and asked if they were ready. With the blessing of the group, Naegi pressed the button.

The doors pulled apart with a hiss, accompanied by blaring sirens. It was the middle of the day outside, sunlight searing their retinas and rendering them blind of a moment. When the bright spots faded from Kirigiri's vision, she could see that Enoshima hadn't been bluffing—the stairs leading up to the school's main entrance were blanketed in corpses, all in varying states of decomposition. She scanned them for signs of Samidare, and thankfully didn't find any.

“Kirigiri-san...” The waver at in Naegi's voice set Kirigiri's teeth on edge.

He'd found her. She was so stupid to hope that Samidare had survived. Enoshima had known how important she was to Kirigiri. From the jumbled memories that had spilled all over the floor of her mind when she'd set foot in her father's office, she had unearthed one or two that confirmed that Enoshima had been aware of Samidare's existence and the nature of her relationship with Kirigiri. It wasn't possible that Enoshima would have allowed that to slip by without interference.

She wasn't sure she was ready to see Samidare's body just yet. Kirigiri had no doubt that she'd been among the first to try and rescue them from the school. If the game had been broadcast across all TV channels, surely Samidare had been aware of the situation. Her first impulse whenever Kirigiri had been in danger was to throw herself in harm's way as a human shield.

Kirigiri didn't want to think about Samidare struggling to climb the steps, crawling and bleeding from multiple bullet wounds, wheezing with her final breaths that she'd be there soon to save her.

“Kyouko-chan!”

Kirigiri couldn't breathe, her face pressed into a very soft chest. Strong arms held her in place, every few moments a sob rippling through them.

“You're okay! I can't believe it, you're okay. I'm so happy!” Samidare kissed her; she tasted like salt and mucus. “Watching that broadcast was torture, but I knew you could do it.”

“Yui-oneesama,” Kirigiri said, her voice hoarse, “you're alive.”

“I am.”

“I-, I thought you might have...” Kirigiri looked over her shoulder toward the corpses stacked on Kibougamine's front steps.

“If I weren't so overjoyed that you're safe, I'd be offended that you think I'd fall for that.” Samidare wiped her nose on the sleeve of her black suit, leaving a trail of snot.

“My apologies,” Kirigiri said, feeling tears welling in her own eyes. “I'm just surprised. Believe me, nothing could make me happier than finding you waiting here.”

Samidare kissed Kirigiri a few more times, then hugged her tightly, her forehead resting on Kirigiri's shoulder. Kirigiri wrapped her arms around Samidare's neck, planting her lips along her jawline.

“Yui,” Kirigiri whispered when she reached Samidare's ear, “my answer is yes.”

Kirigiri hadn't thought it possible, but somehow, Samidare managed to cry harder.

**Author's Note:**

> x-posted from my Tumblr
> 
> This was supposed to be posted for Gaygirigetsu, but then it ballooned into whatever it is now and here we are. Takes place in an off-shoot AU where Samidare lives and Despairification is delayed by a few years. Considers this part of Gaygirigetsu to be part of its canon. Two of the scenes (including the final one) borrow from a couple of Kiridare AU ideas of a great artist on Pixiv and fellow warrior in the noble battle to produce more yuri content.
> 
> Dedicated to my patient, wonderful girlfriend, Mandako.


End file.
